CHAPTER 11: THE BRIDE IN RED
1090 Words
CASSIUS
The silence after Nancy left was heavy, suffocating, but I didn’t move. Daphne sat rigid in the chair, her eyes glassy, her body trembling as though a single touch might shatter her.
I let my hand rise, slow and deliberate, trailing through the air until my fingers brushed a loose strand of her hair. She flinched, her body stiffening instantly. Her reaction drew a faint curl to my lips—fear was a powerful thing, but it wasn’t the only thing simmering beneath her trembling.
My thumb traced downward, grazing the line of her jaw, then lower, down the side of her throat, where her pulse betrayed her with its frantic rhythm. “You are trembling.” I murmured, voice dropping.
She swallowed. “I…I'm not.” Her denial was breathless, cracking like thin glass.
I tilted my head, lips curving into something dark. “Don't lie to me, Daphne. I can feel your fear.” My thumb pressed lightly into the soft hollow of her throat, just enough to feel her heartbeat slam harder. “But it's not only fear…is it?” I added, gaze darkening.
Her lips parted followed by a sharp intake of breath. I felt her body react–tension laced with something she didn't want to admit.
I leaned closer, close enough that my lips almost brushed hers, close enough that I could feel her soft breaths. Her body went rigid beneath my looming shadow, but her eyes–they flickered with innocence but she didn't look away.
“Cassius…” She whispered my name, soft and broken.
The sound of it hit something deep inside me. For a second, I froze. It wasn’t just fear in her voice—it was something else. Something that pulled at me in ways I didn’t like. My chest tightened, my control slipping for a moment.
I wished I could hear her say my name again… not out of fear, but because she wanted to.
That thought alone unsettled me. I wasn’t supposed to want that. I wasn’t supposed to want her. But as I looked at her trembling in front of me, I realized the danger wasn’t in breaking her—it was in how much I didn’t want to.
My hand moved lower, down to her collarbones, hovering there, claiming space that belonged to me now. I could almost feel the heat radiating from her skin, the shiver that coursed through her. My lips were a breath away from hers when–
A sharp beep shattered the air.
I froze, my jaw tightening, every muscle burning with restraint as the sound of my phone cut through the tension. Slowly, I pulled back and checked the screen.
It was a message from Marcus.
“Tonight, business gala. Bring your bride.”
Bride.
The word sat heavy in my chest. Marcus—my father’s old friend, the vulture who circled the empire like it was his to take. I never disobeyed him, not openly. He was too dangerous.
My thumb hovered over the message as my jaw clenched tighter. Bride. I had promised him one. It was all a lie and a facade. A means to reclaim what was mine.
And now… she was the pawn.
I slipped the phone into my pocket, and stood straight gazing down at her. Her lips were still parted, her body still stiff from the moment I had nearly stolen from her.
“You're coming with me tonight.” I said, my tone sharp, leaving no room for argument.
Her brows furrowed. “Tonight?”
“Business.” I replied coldly, then my eyes burned into hers. “You are going as my wife.”
Her lips trembled but no words came. I leaned in just enough to make sure she heard every syllable. “Get ready, Daphne. This is not a request.”
Hours later, the glass doors of one of the city's most luxurious malls slid open, and I walked in with Daphne by my side. Heads turned instantly, they always did. It wasn't a new thing.
I led her to the boutique's lounge, gesturing to the attendants with the faintest flick of my fingers. “Find her something…worthy.”
The ladies who worked there stole lingering glances at me, eyes shamelessly tracing, whispering among themselves, but I didn't care. My attention stayed elsewhere–on the trembling girl who was now their focus.
“She's your wife…sir?” The head attendant asked carefully, curiousity sparkling in her eyes.
“Yes.” I muttered, my tone flat.
I caught Daphne's quick glance in my direction, the disbelief in her eyes.
Wife. The world unsettled her.
Good.
Minutes passed before they led her into the fitting rooms, hands full of silk and velvet, gems and lace. I sat back in the leather chair of the lounge, scrolling absently through my phone, until–
The air shifted. I looked up and froze. Daphne stepped out of the dressing room.
Her dress was red—bright and bold, the kind that made it hard to look away. It fit her like it was made just for her, holding her waist and curves before flowing down softly. A slit ran high along her thigh, showing a glimpse of smooth skin every time she took a step. Her hair fell in loose waves around her face, and her lips were a little red, like she’d been nervously biting them.
She was fire, and she didn’t even know it.
The boutique fell silent. The male attendants stared openly, hunger in their eyes. The women stiffened, envy tightening their smiles.
And me—
My breath caught, just for a moment. The sight of her struck deep, sharp, where I didn’t want it to. I forced my jaw tight, swallowing the truth.
“Sir?” The head attendant’s voice broke through the tension. “What do you think of the dress?”
What did I think? That she looked breathtaking. That the slit made me want to drag her back into the shadows where no one else could see. That the trembling girl I had claimed was suddenly a vision that could ruin me.
But my mask slipped back in place.
“Hmm,” I said casually, leaning back. “Not bad.”
Her eyes flickered. Just for a second. But I saw it—the disappointment, the way her lips pressed thin, the subtle sag of her shoulders.
Good. Better she didn’t know the truth.
I rose, pulling out my card. “We’ll take it.”
- Writer
